


These Moments

by The_Lady_Crane



Category: Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Male Slash, Mild Sexual Content, Past Child Abuse, Past Violence, Post-Canon, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27426868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Lady_Crane/pseuds/The_Lady_Crane
Summary: After leaving Tellius, there is time to feel.---A dumping ground for some very short, emotional drabbles that I sometimes write. Nothin' special.
Relationships: Ike/Senerio | Soren
Comments: 27
Kudos: 40





	1. If Only

**Author's Note:**

> I was feeling some strong sadness, and so I decided to channel that into a short little drabble. I initially hadn't planned on posting it, but then I wrote another afterwards, and I was a little pleased with them. Then I thought, why not start a collection for my Ike/Soren drabbles?
> 
> This is sort of like As Time Goes By, in that there is no particular order or even point to these stories. I just felt like sharing them.

If there’s one thing that Ike wishes he could change about his life, it would be this moment.

He’s standing in a forest, though he doesn’t feel the humid air around him. In front of him is an ancient spreading oak tree, its roots upturned and gnarled. Beneath those roots, barely visible in the dappled light, is a heap of rags and matted hair that only reveals itself to be a child after long scrutiny. Kneeling on the ground nearby, holding out his hand, is another child – this one as well cared for as the other is neglected. The blue-haired boy’s bright smile seems to betray his ignorance of the fact that the boy on the ground is so close to death. 

Ike sees this often enough. He lives through it again and again, just like all the other memories that pop up unbidden in his dreams. His father, the Black Knight, his mother, countless soldiers and bandits and pirates, a goddess, a king, and this – the little boy under the oak tree, who has somehow become an even worse sight than all of the other visions. Ike stands and watches as his younger self reaches out to the boy, knowing what comes next and dreading it.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” he hears, and Ike’s heart sinks. He wants to reach out and tell his younger doppelganger to stop, wants to tell him to go back. This feral boy in the woods needs him. But the adult is powerless here. His voice doesn’t work, as if he’s trying to speak underwater. He just watches himself walk away, and he sees the skeletal little boy shiver under the roots of the tree. He wants to take the child into his arms, protect him from everything that is to come, make him forget what’s already happened.

But he can’t. It’s only a dream, a memory of years long passed. Ike knows now that if he can only wake up, he’ll find himself lying beside the man who used to be this ragged little boy. A part of him doesn’t want to wake up, though. He wants to stay and see if he can somehow change what happens. Maybe if he stays for a bit longer, it’ll be different. Maybe he’ll wake up to find a Soren who isn’t scarred and haunted from years of abuse and neglect. Maybe his parents will still be alive. Just this one event could have changed everything else that would come after, if he can only find the power to alter time.

He was blessed by a goddess, wasn’t he? In this moment, torn between sleep and wakefulness, Ike feels as if he can really do it this time. He can call out to himself, call him back, tell him that this boy needs his help _now_ , that there won’t be a tomorrow for either of them, not for many years, and by then he’ll have forgotten—

“Ike!”

The forest dissolves, and Soren’s face looms above him, pale as the moon in the darkness of their tent. Ike is only barely aware that he had been calling out in his sleep, the evidence an ache in his throat. A slim, cool hand smooths his brow. Ike takes a deep breath, and then another, until he can force his breathing back into a rhythm.

Soren doesn’t ask what nightmare Ike was having. He settles against Ike’s side, their unspoken agreement clear. Ike knows that he could talk about it, that Soren is waiting to listen if he needs to, but he doesn’t want to talk just now. He holds Soren close, and breathes in his scent, mingled with the scent of the pine forest in which they’ve camped.

Just one moment in his life, he thinks. One simple gesture could have changed everything for them. They could have had many more years together. So much pain could have been avoided, and the healing could have begun so much sooner.

“Ike?” A gentle query. Soren doesn’t want to push, but Ike’s breathing is hitching again, and Ike can feel a sting in his eyes. He tightens his hold around Soren.

“Just the past,” he mumbles, his voice hoarse. He really must have been shouting in his sleep. “Just thinking, what if?”

“Mm. No use in that.” Soren cuddles into Ike’s side. “We’re here now. We’re alive.”

Ike nods, and repeats, “We’re alive.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it can be very hard to love someone who has been hurt - especially if they were hurt before you knew them. You want to turn back time and prevent it from ever happening, or make them forget about it, and ultimately, you can only do your best to be there for them.


	2. Rainfall

It’s raining again. Ike can hear it pattering incessantly on the stone tiles of the roof. It taps at the windows and thuds against the muddy ground outside. A slight draft is coming in from around the windowsill, blowing the curtains softly.

The sounds drive out all thought, so that Ike is fully present in the moment, visions of the past banished for now. With the sound of the rain, Ike can focus on everything else going on. He can hear, faintly, the crackle in the fireplace. He can feel its warmth. He settles into the pillows and blankets around him, cocooned against the harsh autumn weather outside.

Soren is fast asleep, warm and soft against Ike’s side. The vanguard turns over and hugs him closer, burying his nose in inky black hair and breathing in the comforting scent of home and love. Shifting a little, muttering sleepily, Soren doesn’t wake. He nestles closer to Ike’s warmth, and Ike leans on him, hoping that Soren can feel his presence in his dreams. There is a sigh, a soft and happy sound, before Soren’s gentle breaths resume a slow rhythm.

This is all Ike ever wanted: someplace safe, someplace warm. He is strongest with Soren at his side, and now, he is happiest with the little tactician in his arms. The years of war and conflict are a distant memory now. Ike can feel age creeping up on him, but somehow, it doesn’t bother him. He lives for rainy nights like this, for golden mornings and lazy afternoons spent in the company of the one who knows him best. This is what they fought so hard to achieve, when all was said and done. This moment, right now, under the blankets with the autumn rain falling outside of the inn.

He sighs, closes his eyes, and gives his mind to the moment.


	3. To Have and to Hold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I went back over the opening line of this drabble, I thought that it sounded familiar. I have a feeling that I've read it somewhere before. It is not my intention to plagiarize anyone; if someone else wrote a story that begins with that line, please let me know! I went through my favorite Ike/Soren stories to make sure, and I didn't find it; but damn, it just sounds so familiar to me! >_< I hate that; sometimes I'll write something that I read once, without realizing it, and sometimes I feel like I've read something somewhere when I really haven't.

Ike doesn’t really remember when he started holding Soren’s hand. Even though his repressed memories from childhood have returned, much of it remains murky and incomplete. He thinks that the first time may have been shortly after Soren joined the Greil Mercenaries. There was a whimper in the dark, a sudden jolt… something had surely drawn his attention to the fact that Soren suffered from frequent nightmares and night terrors. As quiet as the boy tried to be, he couldn’t completely hide from Ike. While the others in the barracks hadn’t noticed, or hadn’t said so, Ike did. At the time, Soren was the only other kid his age for miles around. Ike had been keenly interested in his new friend.

In the darkness of the barracks, Ike had reached across the small gap between their cots. He doesn’t remember exactly how Soren reacted. It’s been many years since then, and he’s done it so many times since, that the first encounter has faded somewhat from memory. But he does know that Soren had been reluctant. Whether he’d tried to pull away, or had simply asked to be released, he had almost seemed afraid to accept the comfort that Ike was offering.

Now, of course, Ike understands the reason. Before, he thought it was simple stubbornness. He had persisted, and had slowly broken past Soren’s barriers, bit by bit. That thin, cool hand in his became a constant, something that helped both of them to sleep at night. Over time, that hand drew closer. Then it was the arm, twined around his. Then, hesitantly at first, a head of long, dark hair resting on his shoulder.

To look at them now, one would think that they had never spent a day apart. Ike wakes every morning with Soren in his arms. He falls asleep every night wrapped around the smaller man. It’s how every day begins and ends, and it has been this way for a long time. Ike can’t imagine a time when it wasn’t this way. He doesn’t want to remember what it’s like to wake up alone. Just thinking about it makes him shudder and pull Soren closer, and Soren squeezes him tightly in response, as if he knows that Ike needs to be reminded where they are and how far they’ve come.

This is their little ritual. No matter where they are, no matter what time they actually get to bed, they lie for some time in each other’s arms. They hold each other until they fall asleep – in the tent, in the inns and hostels, in the barn lofts, on the cold ground of a cave or a mossy riverbank or a sandy coast. Perhaps it’s a bit stupid of them to sleep at the same time, particularly when they’re out in the wild; but they share an ultimate trust of each other, and they know that should one of them fail to detect an approaching enemy or predator, the other one will. They need this time, when the day’s travel is over. They need to hold each other like this. Ike has to feel Soren’s slight weight against him, has to breathe in his scent, or else he can’t calm his mind. He can’t feel safe without Soren there.

Sometimes, he wonders if he is somehow building Soren up with this affection. As a child, Soren was never held. Ike wonders if somehow, through this physical contact, he can rebuild what was broken by that act of abuse. Soren saw himself through the blows and harsh words; he carried himself through the backbreaking magical training and the starvation and the uncertainty and the fear. But he can’t hold himself. He can’t give himself the sense of safety and love that a parent’s arms are supposed to give from day one. Ike holds onto him tightly, almost crushing him to his chest, and he prays that he can give that. He hopes it will be enough.

In truth, Ike knows that he needs Soren, probably more than Soren needs him. He knows that it’s pathetic, but he doesn’t care. In a world of change and chaos, Soren has always been the one constant in his life. He’s always been there, quietly guiding him, helping him, looking after him. As little as Soren values himself, Ike can’t put a price on his company. He would fall to pieces without the sage by his side. Holding him like this is a reminder of their bond. It helps him to really feel it, to really understand that they’re both alive. He knows without a doubt that it’s the same for Soren. They both need this; it is pure catharsis.

The feeling of give and take is tangible when they’re like this. Tangled up with each other, they affirm what they already know: that they have each other, and that’s all they really need.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... and food. They also need food.


	4. And After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's kiiiiinda depressing. Fair warning.

“Let the future take care of itself.” It’s something that Ike is always saying, but Soren has a hard time following that advice. How can he ignore the future, when it’s constantly coming at them? The concept of “now” is fleeting. The future is always unraveling beneath their feet, an ever-expanding path shrouded in darkness and uncertainty. Soren can plan and plan until his brain is aching, but he can never see too far ahead. There will always be diversions, roadblocks, sudden and unavoidable change. No matter how many scenarios he plans out, there will always be a hundred more that might play out instead. He can’t plan for all of them.

The only thing he knows for certain is that they will die someday.

He hopes that the end will come for both of them simultaneously, so that neither will have to suffer the agony of living without the other. More specifically, he hopes that his naturally long lifespan will be cut short by disease or trauma long before he has to say farewell to Ike. Soren knows that he can live without Ike. He knows that he can go on just fine and live a long life. But he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to find anything else for which to live. He doesn’t want to find another purpose. Ike is his purpose, and he refuses to see anything else. If that makes him a fool, then so be it. He will gladly take on that mantle.

Sometimes, he can hardly sleep for fear of losing Ike. Every hitch in the sleeping man’s breath forces Soren’s eyes open. He watches his companion for hours, sometimes, just to make sure that he keeps living. He puts his hand on Ike’s chest to feel its rise and fall. Even when Ike is in a deep slumber, Soren is grateful for every second that he gets to spend with him. He doesn’t take a single moment for granted. In the back of his mind, he always knows that death is just around the corner.

He watches Ike sleep, listens to his even breaths, straining to hear when they become softer. He has to reassure himself that Ike is still here, and that he will be here in the morning. They’ll have all day to spend together, and another day, and a year, and maybe many more. But one day, Soren may spend his last night with Ike. He doesn’t know when, so he has to make every moment count.

When that last night comes, if it comes, Soren will be prepared. He lets himself cry silently, so that the tears will have dried up by the time it happens. And when he faces that night at last, he will have known that not a second was spent in idleness.

And as for after?

He’ll have to let that take care of itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, I think Soren and I are on the same wavelength. When you're neurotic, a worry-wart, and have a soul mate for whom you would lay down your life, you tend to think dark thoughts sometimes. Particularly at night. Which is why I wrote this instead of sleeping, myself.


	5. In the Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sexual content in this chapter.

In the moment, nothing else matters.

Sweat, sharp and acrid, soaks the sheets. The bed rustles, straw crackling beneath layers of rough and worn fabric. None of it even registers in Ike’s brain right now. All he knows is Soren. The feel of smooth skin, marred here and there by a scar that reminds him of just how lucky they both are to be here; the smell of parchment and charcoal and ink and that indescribable scent of the wind; the sounds, smooth and low, going higher in pitch now and then as Ike hits a particularly sensitive spot.

This is all Ike knows. It’s all he wants to know.

Soren is so small in his arms, burrowed beneath him as Ike delves deeper and deeper. He wants to disappear into Soren’s being, wants to let his sense of self dissolve and meld with the sage’s.

In the moment, they become one with each other. Soon, neither can tell where one ends and the other begins. They share the same breath, the same life, the same spirit. For those few minutes, they transcend physical being.

Ike can feel Soren’s heartbeat in his own. They look into each other’s eyes, unseeing. The pleasure is secondary to the feeling from deep within, the pulsing of two souls becoming one. They are broken men, but the pieces shattered from one fit perfectly to the pieces of the other. They can make something new between them, filling in the cracks, smoothing them over until the picture is completed once more.

When Soren turns off his mind, when he allows his heart and his body to take over, they reach perfect equilibrium. Ike falls into Soren, welcoming him at the same time. They clutch each other in the physical realm as their bodies find release, and in that perfect moment, they exist in unity.

In the moment, Ike often forgets the aches and pains that have been creeping up on him. He remembers, once it’s over, once exhaustion sweeps through him. But he doesn’t care. Their souls have come together once more. Their bond has been reinforced.

In the moment, their now becomes forever, and Ike knows that they will never part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe in soul mates, and I believe that sex can be so much more than physical pleasure. That's part of what I love about Ike and Soren - I get the sense that their relationship is deep like that. Some people see them as asexual; I like to think of them as enjoying sex on a spiritual level as well as a physical one. When you make love with your soul mate, it really is a transcendental experience. I lack the eloquence to really express it the way I see it, but I hope that their love for each other came through.


End file.
